QLFC Season 3 Round 7 Rain Upon the Autumn Leaves
by corvusdraconis
Summary: Entry for QLFC Season 3 Round 7. [HG/SS] Severus has lost many things throughout his life - his humanity being only one victim of many. One person, however, he cannot bear to lose to the ravages of time and a cruel trick of fate that threatens to steal her away.


**Summary:** [HG/SS] All things come to an end around Severus Snape— everything but him. There is one person who shares his world he cannot bear to lose. QLFC Round 7 (Season 3)

Quidditch League Fanfiction Contest

Season 3, Round 7, Pride of Portree

 **Position:** Beater 1

 **Prompt:** Elixir of Life

 **Optional Prompts:**

2\. (word) raindrops

4\. (colour) olive

6\. (word) envelope

 **Disclaimer:** JKR's stuff is still JKR's stuff!

 **Beta:** fluffpanda, who deserves cookies

 **A/N:** I'm not sure what kind of brain crack someone slipped me this weekend, but I'm pretty sure I was bitten by a vampire bat. I'm not sure if I should apologise or celebrate!

-o-o-o-o-o-

 **Rain Upon the Autumn Leaves**

Headmaster Severus Snape was rushing to the Hospital Wing as though the hounds of Hell were chasing him. His outer robe was fluttering behind him like a flag in the wind. Students scurried out of his way automatically, bowing their heads in deference.

Thirty some years had passed since the end of the second of two Wizarding Wars had come and gone. Much of what had been fought for had finally come to fruition. Slytherins sat with Gryffindors in the halls, and House rivalry had been limited to the confines of Quidditch and the House Cup. Common Rooms had become places where all were welcome. Friendships abounded in Hogwarts, and peace had finally settled upon the school that it has possible never been known in its history..

Idiocy, however, had not been stamped out of the populous anymore than red hair could be eradicated from the Weasley line or the Lovegood line could stop chasing imaginary creatures into the broom closets.

It was idiocy they fought in Hogwarts—idiocy and stupid, ignorant mistakes.

As he burst through the front door to the Hospital Wing, Severus' eyes scanned the room frantically. His normally pale face grew even whiter as he saw the familiar spill of brown and silver curls on a pillow. His normally tightly controlled expression cracked, and he hurried to the bedside.

There were three students crying at Hermione's bedside as Madam Rosemary ran her wand over her patient. Madam Rosemary had been a stalwart friend for the school since Poppy Pomfrey had retired. She had patched many students up from their various mistakes caused by class accidents or Quidditch, and Hermione had always said that Madam Rosemary was the one the school couldn't go without. The rest of the faculty was simply window dressing.

Hermione.

Severus fell to his knees beside Hermione's bed, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of her flesh mixed with remains of a potion explosion. Her skin was scalded where the potion or a blast of intense heat had hit her.

Hermione had been the resident Potion Mistress for the last two decades, teaching the ever changing influx of students all the basics so they could survive their O.W.L.s and, if they were truly talented, sit their N.E.W.T.s. She was known as a strict professor with clear expectations of her students, but unlike Severus, she had never been accused of being a greasy dungeon bat. Her students seemed to adore her, and Severus had to admit she had a presence when teaching that was truly wondrous to behold. She commanded respect with barely a word being said, answered questions that were both directly from the books and from her own experience. She seemed to have a way of coaxing the shyest of students out of their shells, and there wasn't one student in Hogwarts that didn't show up for the Potions Picnics that she had during the fall.

Caramel apples, kettle corn, and magic snacks would be crafted under Hermione's watchful eye as Draco Malfoy would encourage the children to do shuttle broom races across Black Lake. Draco had started teaching at the school as penance for his family's involvement in the Second Wizarding War, but it was clear the job had grown on the boy. Now that he was older and more stable, he had admitted he loved teaching flying. Flying had always been Draco's greatest freedom as a child, and it was the only thing he hadn't lost his love for despite the passing of the years. Madam Hooch had proclaimed him fit to take the reins when she had retired, happy that there were young people willing to take responsibility teaching the younger generations.

Severus had watched the pair grow into a friendship that rivalled that of the Golden Trio back in the day. At first they had been barely able to look each other in the eye, but gradually, Hermione had opened up to Draco due to Severus' influence and Draco had done the so too, for exactly the same reason. Hermione had been Severus' Apprentice at the time and could hardly avoid not being there when his godson came to visit. As for Draco, he could hardly stop visiting the man just because Hermione was there.

It had been amusing to Severus, just watching the two of them grow into their new friendship. It had been unfortunate that every change, however positive, had its price. Where, in Draco, Hermione had gained a stalwart friend and colleague, Ronald Weasley and most of his family had turned their backs on her and shunned her. Ronald hadn't even given her the decency of breaking up with her face-to-face. He had broken up with her using a formal Auror Office envelope and equally bland olive-coloured stationery saying they were done. He had shunned her for trusting a Malfoy. He had shunned her for apprenticing under Snape. He had shunned her for settling with teaching instead of pursuing a career at the Ministry. He had managed to convince most of his family to turn their noses up at her, and they did. Well, some of them had. Oddly enough, Bill, Charlie, and George would come by for tea on holidays "regardless of our idiot brother's belly-aching."

On some occasions, Harry would floo in and visit while his family was off with the grandparents. Every so often, a browbeaten Arthur would stop by and enjoy an evening of Muggle board games and stories. Sometimes, he would bring one of the grandchildren, and Hermione's eyes would light up with joy as the children would hug her tightly with unprejudiced affection.

Her eyes would often be sad as she looked on the children, perhaps thinking it was something she could never have. Severus was, as vampires were, sterile. No matter what she may have wanted in that area, Hermione could never have children with him. Draco had once told her that he would sow the seeds into her himself if she really wanted a child. She and Severus could raise the child together.

Hermione had sputtered her tea over the table and glared at her friend, waving him off as she laughed. It had cheered her up, Severus recalled, that her friend would have done something like that for them, even if it was mostly in jest.

Severus knew that Draco had truly grown to love the witch, but Hermione had fallen for a certain surly, brooding Potion Master during their apprenticeship. The Potion Master, Severus mused, had been equally smitten by her. She was a force of nature. She was compassion uncompromising. She was Life itself. She had had enough compassion and life to share with both Severus and Draco: Severus as her husband of untold years and Draco as her best friend.

Hermione, Draco, and Madam Rosemary knew Severus was a vampire. Hermione had suspected the moment she'd realised Severus had survived Nagini, and Draco had clued in shortly after. Both Hermione and Draco had taken odd turns volunteering their carotid for his blood meal once a week. Madam Rosemary provided them with proper nutrition and potions to insure they weren't weakened by it. There was a time when Draco and Hermione had called it "paying the piper." Both of them saw Severus as someone who had sacrificed much to keep them alive when they were children. They saw feeding his needs as something natural, and neither of them quibbled over it, even if he did from time to time. His control over his hunger was like his control over his emotions. He didn't lose control.

At least, he didn't lose control until now.

Severus brushed Hermione's hair back from her forehead. Her normal olive brown tan was red and black with the burns from the potion explosion. Her hair, which normally smelled of raindrops on autumn leaves, smelled of a mixture of ill-mixed potion ingredients.

"Hermione," he breathed her name softly, like a prayer.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and her lips moved silently. She was in pain, he knew. He could feel it. Decades of marriage, and the look she gave him was the same. It was always kind. It forgave him things he couldn't even remembering doing. It forgave him the things he could.

Hermione's silver and brown hair had always glistened with life, but now it was dull and brittle. Her eyes looked at him with the warmth she had always held for him, almost as if she were defying her condition with only her compassion as a shield.

The children next to him sniffled, reminding him he was not alone. His face hardened as he looked into their faces. "What happened?"

"Professor Snape was teaching us about the Elixir of Life while we were brewing our potions in class," the young girl in the group said.

"She was explaining to us about the Philosopher's Stone and that the Elixir can only be made in combination with the Stone," the younger boy explained.

The second boy nodded. "We were all asking her if you had to keep taking the potion forever, or if it was a one time thing," he filled in. "She told us that was the one failing of the potion. Once you started taking it, you had to keep taking it, or you would die."

The girl nodded. "She said that the stone itself could be corrupted, and then the potions were useless. People who relied on the potion would end up dying anyway."

Severus frowned. He wasn't sure where this explanation was going.

The two boys exchanged glances. "Jasper thought the Philosopher's stone was just a stone that happened to be held by a philosopher. He charged up a stone with magic and put one into his potion cauldron thinking it would enhance his brewing."

Severus closed his eyes. He knew where it was leading now. The idiot had caused the explosion.

"Professor Snape," the girl squeaked. "She seemed to realise what had happened. She cast a spell, threw us all across the room, and put up some sort of barrier right before it exploded!"

"The cauldron exploded, but it was contained," one of the boys said. "She took down the shielding and vanished the potion, but—"

"The rock was still in there, and it blew up," the other other boy said.

"She saved us," the young witch said softly. "Is she going to be okay?"

Severus' eyes flicked up to Madam Rosemary's face, and what he saw there caused him to flinch. "She'll be fine, child," Severus lied, his face deadpan. "You three should go back to your dormitories. Let Professor Snape rest."

"Yes, Headmaster," the trio replied sadly. They stood up and shuffled out.

Madam Rosemary had closed the privacy curtains around them, and Severus cast his gaze towards his wife. "Always the Gryffindor," he muttered. "Always throwing yourself in front of danger to save others instead of saving yourself. Why couldn't you be Slytherin for once?"

Hermione's eyes flicked to his. Even after everything, they looked upon him warmly. They had shared a good life together, but he had expected so many more. She was a witch, after all. She would have lived to be a hundred years older before her precious force of life faded over a natural course.

Severus' hand alighted on hers, his cold skin seeming to bring relief to the pain of her burns. He could smell her scent under the injury—the smell of rain upon the leaves in autumn. In all the years they had shared, she had never asked him the one question he burned to know. He knew she loved him. He knew she forgave him his past. But the one question he desired her to ask of him, she never did. She never asked to share his immortality. She simply lived her life with him, giving everything and asking for far little in return.

Severus' eyes bled into pure black, filling the whites of his eyes with the blackest of night. He felt his fangs extend without his permission. His control was faltering. His emotions were getting the better of him.

There was one other Elixir of Life the books did not teach at Hogwarts.

The blood was life. Her blood was his life. His blood… could grant her new life. And like all Elixirs of Life, each had its price to be paid. Those that wished to use the Elixir of Life relied upon the Philosopher's Stone to make the potion for the rest of their living days. A terminal change in lifestyle was required for his.

"Hermione," Severus whispered, forcing his eyes to stare into hers. "Stay with me." He placed his fingers against hers, gently brushing her unburned skin.

A tear leaked from Hermione's eyes, and he saw flashes of their life together. He saw himself in her eyes, strutting around the kitchen with a spaghetti colander on his head to cheer her up after having her latest row with Ron. He saw his face as he had given her his first real smile, the flash of his fangs glinting over the cauldron of a perfect potion. He saw himself dressed in the set of dress robes for their wedding and her memory as he had slipped the ring upon her finger.

" _I bind you now, eternally, this wizard and this witch," Kingsley had said as he wrapped their hands together in silver and gold cord. "May your lives enrich the other's in this life and all that come after."_

Severus's black eyes met Hermione's and he saw the small smile upon her lips. The slight curl of her fingers over his gave him the answer he could never ask aloud. Her eyes gave him the rest.

Severus cradled her against him, ever so gently supporting her body in her pain. For the first time in their life together, he caught her in his gaze and rolled her mind, filling her mind with pleasure instead of the pain of her injuries. His fangs bared as he caught her true scent under the burns— the scent of raindrops on the autumn leaves. He sank his fangs into the curve of her neck, seeking the carotid.

Her blood—her life—gushed into his mouth to feed him, and for once, he greedily drank all of it down. Her life, her magic, all that she was shared with him her personal Elixir of Life, whose taste was uniquely hers. He growled against her neck as he pulled away, just long enough to draw one of his talons across his neck. A trickle of blood rose up to the surface.

"Drink," he whispered hoarsely, guiding her to his offering. His hand pressed against the back of her head, pressing her to his neck. "For the blood is life," he breathed. " _And you are now to me: flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin_ " (Stoker 1897).

Severus shuddered as Hermione's mouth worked over his offering, his eyes rolling back as the ecstasy of the moment flooded over him. His fangs bared in elation, his talons combed her hair, and her scent permeated the air with its distinct mixture of rain and leaves.

He pulled away as the sensation faded enough to allow him to function again. He looked into her face and saw her now obsidian eyes staring up at him from her perfect alabaster face. Her new, opalescent fangs glistened with a coating of his blood.

Her burns were gone. Her hair shone sienna and silver as though the moon were shining down upon her. Her lips parted as a soft hiss escaped her mouth as her fingers caressed the side of his face. "Severus," she breathed his name like a prayer.

Severus growled softly, baring his teeth as he pressed his mouth to hers, sealing the covenant that had started decades before with the ritual of marriage and the promise of eternity.

Students would come and go. Idiocy would wax and wane. Friends would be born, met, celebrated, and lost. Severus and Hermione would continue on at each other's side.

Always.


End file.
